


Punishment

by orphan_account



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Feelings, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 13:19:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6856495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>;)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This is not smut</p>
            </blockquote>





	Punishment

**Author's Note:**

> Edward's POV

   You can’t really consider this a punishment, at least it's not for me.

   Not only am I in a small but cozy room full of books that contain endless amounts of knowledge, but I'm in this room with Mustang. I have been in here since 6 in the morning, and I won't be able to leave until 10 at night. But it's completely fine because that's 16 hours of bliss and time to check out a certain raven hair beauty.

   The higher ups couldn't have been thinking when they said this was a punishment for fighting. Or maybe they took pity on the both of us since we were trying to stop the fight. Well at least Roy was trying to stop it, I was more or less actually a part of it… Either way I’m in a temporary heaven for today.

   “Edward,” a low and sedate voice calls my name. “Hmm?” I reply stopping myself from organizing the pile of books in front of me any further. “We should take a break now,” Mustang suggests looking over at me the same time I glance at him. Our eyes meet, for a second I don't breathe, but then I avert my gaze to look down at a book by my foot.

   “Is there food?” I ask trying not to let my voice crack. “Someone brought some a few minutes ago,” he replies with a nonchalant tone. “Let's eat then,” I answer him.

   We both stand up then walk towards the door where two trays with food lay in front of it on the ground. “Bon appetite,” I sarcastically comment as I sit down in front of one of the trays with a white-greyish watery glub in a bowl.

   Mustang chuckles then sits down in front of the other try so we’re facing each other. “At least there’s bread,” he says to comfort the both of us at our appetizing meal. I pick up the bread to feel it in my hand and it’s harder than a rock. If anything, it might even break an actual rock.

   “Disgusting,” I remark putting the bread back on the try then picking up the spoon to mix the glub.

   Towards the top of unidentifiable mixture, it's watery and mixes easily. But towards the bottom the head of the spoon is stuck.

   “Fuck,” I swear under my breath. I wiggle the handle of the spoon to create some room so I could pull it out before I’m able to pull the spoon away from the chunky poison.

    _Maybe this sad thing is the punishment; maybe that's the higher up’s plans. Yes, make us hungry then only give this white shit for us to eat. Clever, I muse to myself while stabbing it in and out of the mixture quickly._

   “Ed?” Mustang’s voice interrupts my cynical thoughts. “Huh?”

   “Are you going to eat?” He asks peering down at my food. This is why mothers say never play with you food because if you do your unbelievably handsome crush thinks you’re a freak.

   “Yeah, just trying to make it edible,” I reply trying not to screw up even more. Mustang laughs as he takes the spoon out of my hand, our fingertips touching for a moment causing the air to leave my lungs. “If you rip the bread and mix it in then it becomes edible,” he advises while he effortlessly mixes the wretched substance. “What’s it made of?” I question him. “Some things are better off not knowing,” Mustang answers staring off into space.

   “Well anyway here, it should be edible now.”

   He passes the spoon back. The part where he touched it is warm and I melt a little on the inside. Maybe being stuck with him for 16 hours isn't a good thing. It means I have more time to screw up and that’s the last thing I want to do around him.

   “Thank you,” I mumble picking the bowl up and bringing the grub closer to my face. There’s a faint scent that’s absolutely unappetizing, but at the same I can't really smell anything. I don't know which terrifies me more: the grub having a hidden scent or it not having one at all.

   “If you breathe through your mouth everything will become less revolting.”

   Mustang’s advice seems reliable so I follow it. Surprisingly I'm able to shove a spoonful on the grub in my mouth and swallow it. I’m just not sure if I can digest it.

   My face contorts into an expression of pain as the grub settles down somewhere inside my body. It’s texture violates my throat and I can still feel how watery and chunky it is at the same time in my mouth.

   “Don’t worry, you learn to love it,” Mustang tries to comfort me.

   “I won't love it as much as I love you,” I bitterly mumble without thinking.

    _Oh fuck!!! Shit hell damn fuck my god shit!!!_

   Endless profanities are spewing in my head as I pray to any God that I haven't pissed off yet of my pleas that Mustang didn't hear anything.

   “Well nothing can compare to you. Especially this hazardous food item,” he answers as if it’s something natural.

   All I can do it gaze at him in shock. My heart starts beating faster until it feels like a cold fire is burning it slowly. Every inch of my body tingles with excitement but anxiousness at what he words could mean. Somehow I can feel my face heat up and my legs feel weak, as if they're about to give away even though I'm sitting down. I don't trust myself to speak, but I can't help opening my mouth to ask a question.

   “Hey Edward?” Mustang suddenly says causing me to shut my mouth and listen to him. “This is a bad time but I think I should say it.”

   Mustang turns towards me with a serious expression on his face. His eyes pierce into the place where a soul should be. Inside of me I feel bare, exposed to him. Just from his gaze I’m left trembling in anticipation of what he’ll say and nervousness at what could happen.

   “I love you,” he confesses. Something inside of me ignites and I'm on fire. Despite the expressionless face he has, I just know how much courage he needs to say something like this. For a second I think I'm delusion because there's a slight pink on his face. The great Roy Mustang is blushing? Is the world ending? Or am I just imaging it?

   “Where can I begin to explain?” He chuckles gazing over and paralyzing me. “Well I love how hardworking and stubborn you are. I love that you don't give up and how caring you are for your brother.”

   “You’re also very attractive,” he almost whispers reaching out to push a few strands of hair behind my ear. My face heats up at his sudden touch. “And your hair is so soft…”

   “You’re a brat, basically still a kid. But you're resilient and loyal. I love everything about you.”

   With a heartwarming smile he tilts his head and I'm just speechless. How can he love me? Out of everyone in this world he feels this way for me? Why? It just seems so incredulous, so unbelievable.

   “Quiet lying Mustang. Don't take these things too far,” I scoff trying to push him away. Yeah I fucked up first, but there's no way he can love me. It’s better not to let him get too close.

   Mustangs stares at me, a little hurt in his eyes. I can't look at him knowing at that pain is because of me, so instead I focus my attention on the chunky white substance in front of me.

   “Edward, I love you. If you don't feel the same that's fine because I rather have us just be friends than not talk at all. I’m not asking you to date me, don't get me wrong though. It would be a blessing that I would entirely be grateful for my whole life if you would call me yours, even if it's just for a little bit. But don't do anything you aren't comfortable or want to do for me. You can reject me, I completely understand if you do. Just know that no matter what, I'm here for you. As a friend, as a lover, whatever you want our relationship to be.”

   Mustang’s words wrap around my heart like a warm blanket.

   I love the cocky idiot with all my heart but I just can't believe it. Most people may not like him, yet no one can deny he has this charm. Most people definitely don't like me, and I have no charm to speak of. So forgive me for beginning hesitant, I just don't see why he would like me. Or have any remote interest.

   From the beginning, since Al verbally smack the thought of liking Mustang in my head, I didn't expect this to go anywhere. And now that it might be going somewhere, I’m fucking terrified. I’m willing to give my all for him but I don't want to bare what's left of my heart and soul to him. He’ll just see broken pieces barely together and almost unable to function properly.

   Liking someone is easy, but loving someone is hard. Loving someone means you’ll show them the person you’re trying to protect inside of you. I just can't show him what's inside of me because there's almost nothing there.

   “It-it's not that I don't like you,” I clarify in a shaky voice. “I just, just…”

   Charcoal black eyes stare at me. My mind blanks and I try to move the spoon in the substance again.

   “I didn't expect this to go anywhere.”

   “Do you want it to go somewhere?” Mustang asks without missing a beat. “Because I do. I won't force you to agree to anything, but please consider this seriously.”

   Briefly I glance at him. _He’s serious about this, about us._

   “I-I’m not sure.”

   The spoon is stuck at the bottom of the bowl again. I’m feeling too weak to even try to get it out so I just let it stay there.

   “We can take it slow,” he offers. “We can just hang out more often. Maybe go out for drinks every now and then. And I won't be as much as a dick to you. Then we can start talking more, and getting together whenever we’re free-”

   His words are sweet. They make me want to believe that it will all work out nicely and that's there's nothing to fear.

   “Then you’ll leave.” I interrupt him.

   His eyes show forlorn, and for once he doesn't speak.

   “I’ll only leave if you want me to.”

   “You only say this now,” I reason. “Everyone leaves eventually.”

   “Give me a chance Edward,” Mustang pleads. There’s desperation in his voice, but it's faint. “Just give yourself a chance to be happy for once.”

    _Should I?_ I contemplate briefly glancing over at him. The Mustang in front of me isn't the usually cocky bastard. Instead he’s nervous and humble; it's so unusual.

   My heart constricts, my hands ball into a fist and squeeze until my fingernails pierce my skin. Blood’s possibly oozing out of me. I think of all the possibilities between Roy and I.

   “Fine,” I relent deciding to give in to my feelings. It takes a lot to love someone, but as I stare at him and he patiently waits for an answer, I know that he’s not asking for too much. He wants me to do what I think is best.

   “I’ll take the chance.”


End file.
